


No Rest for the Wicked

by watcherofworlds



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Constantine (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Crossover, F/M, M/M, Married Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Post Arrow s6, Supernatural Elements, Supernatural Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-28 13:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13272465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watcherofworlds/pseuds/watcherofworlds
Summary: John Constantine is a busy man. The last thing he needs is a summons- via Pentecostal coin- from Lucifer Morningstar, former Lord of Hell, current rich playboy and nightclub owner, and the cause of all his troubles. Lucifer, it turns out, needs a favor from him. There's a man somewhere in the City of Angels committing unspeakable acts in Lucifer's name, calling himself the Devil and dealing nefarious favors, and Lucifer wants him stopped. Such an endeavor, however, is outside both Constantine's abilities and expertise, so he calls in a favor from his old acquaintance, Oliver Queen, and leaves him to deal with Lucifer's problem.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is- the Lucifer/Constantine/Arrow crossover that I've been wanting to write for ages now but couldn't figure out how to finagle before. This is also the first fic I've ever written for a m/m ship, as well as the first one I've written for any same sex pairing.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to comment!

“Damn it Lucifer!” 

John Constantine came storming into Lux, all rage and insolence and swagger, his tan trench coat flaring out behind him as he marched angrily up to the bar. “I’ve got work to do, important work, beating back the hordes of Hell that have grown restless in  _ your _ absence. I don’t have  _ time _ to be summoned by one of your bloody Pentecostal coins every time you feel like having a shag!” He threw the coin in question down on the bar, where it clinked loudly against the glass top. He lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, muttering a curse when he nearly dropped it into the glass of scotch that Maze had poured for him while he’d been ranting. His Liverpool accent, roughened by years of smoking, had always been infuriatingly sexy, but tinged with anger as it was it was damn near irresistible. Lucifer would have been lying if he’d said that he wasn’t extremely turned on right now. 

“Actually, I called you because I needed a favor,” he said, with the particular seductive smile he reserved for the most favored of his partners. “But...I’m down for it if you are.” He gave a none too subtle nod up the stairs toward his penthouse. John glowered and grumbled under his breath, but followed him up.

Later, as they lay in bed, tangled in silk sheets and each other, Lucifer found himself brushing his fingers back and forth along the inside of John’s forearm, over the spot where a column of Chinese characters had once been, inked in thick black lines that contrasted sharply with his pale skin.

“What happened to your protection spell?” he asked, voice heavy with afterglow.

“Gave it to a chap who did me a good turn a while back,” John grunted. “Figured I’d return the favor. Besides, in the end I reckon he ended up needing it more than me.” Lucifer nodded.

“So what’s this favor you need from me?” John asked.

“Always straight to the point with you, isn’t it?” Lucifer countered. “Can’t you ever just take some time and enjoy the moment?” John glared at him. 

“Oh, very well,” he said. “There’s someone out there commiting unspeakable acts in my name. He walks the streets calling himself the Devil, dealing nefarious favors.”

“Really?” John scoffed, disentangling himself from Lucifer. “The favor you need from me is protecting your reputation?” 

“No, you don’t understand,” Lucifer implored, reaching for him. “I’ve spent an eternity trying to prove that I’m not evil, that I only punish evil. It was the only way I could get back at Father. I won’t have this men destroying millenia of hard work. I  _ won’t _ .” His eyes turned dangerously dark, the way they did in the split second before they flashed red. 

“Oh,  _ bloody hell _ ,” John muttered. “What you’re asking of me isn’t a favor, it’s a military campaign. A long one. I’d have to spend weeks learning about this guy, his habits, his movements, his base of operations, before I’d even have a chance of getting close to him, during which time there’s a very real possibility that the hordes of Hell that I’ve only been barely keeping at bay could overrun this world.”

“So you’re saying you won’t help me,” Lucifer said. There was something dangerous in his voice.

“No, I’m saying I can’t,” John said brusquely. “But there’s no need to get your expensive silk knickers in a twist- I know someone who can. Just give it a few days. He’ll come if I ask him.” He turned his back to Lucifer and dressed himself with quick, angry motions. He was gone before Lucifer had the chance to say “Thank you”, leaving a faint trace of tobacco smoke in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

The man sitting at one of the back tables was an enigma. Lucifer cocked his head, studying him. He had a drink on the table next to his hand, but he wasn’t drinking it. His posture was relaxed, but there was a high, tense set to his shoulders, and he scanned the faces of anyone who came near him, as if assessing whether or not they might be a threat to him. The blonde sitting beside him put a hand on his arm and whispered something in his ear, and for the briefest of instants he relaxed, a smile playing with the corners of his mouth, but then the moment passed and he went back to watching the crowd with dark, guarded eyes. This man was a warrior. Lucifer could tell. He must have been the person John had sent. 

“Hello,” he said, approaching his table, already dialing up the charm. “You must be-” He stopped mid sentence, recognizing the man.

“Why, Oliver Queen!” he exclaimed. “Star City’s celebrity mayor! What brings you to my humble establishment?”

“Constantine sent us,” Oliver said gruffly, eyebrows lowered in a scowl. “Told us that he owed you a favor, but  what you needed from him wasn’t something he was able to provide.”

“Though why  _ we’re _ the ones who  _ would _ be able to provide it is beyond me,” the blonde seated beside Oliver put in.

“Ah, you must be the lovely Felicity Smoak,” Lucifer said, flashing her his most charming smile. Such behavior wasn’t exactly fair to Chloe, but Chloe wasn’t here. He paused, then added, “Or, it’s Queen now, isn’t it?” When Felicity’s eyes widened in surprise, he said, “Don’t look so shocked, my dear. You didn’t really think you’d escaped the effects of your husband’s celebrity, did you? As I recall, the two of you were Star City’s favorite couple. They even had a cutesy name for you, didn’t they?” This last question went unanswered. Lucifer sighed. 

“You two are no fun, are you?” he asked.

“We’re not here for fun,” Oliver snapped, earning himself a scathing look from his wife for his lack of tact. “We’re here to fulfill Constantine’s obligation to you so we can be on our way. We have our own lives to get back to, you know.”

“Very well,” Lucifer finally said when he realized that there was no weakening Oliver’s resolve. Damn John. He always did like the stubborn ones. “Come with me to my penthouse. This is a matter that should be discussed in private.” 

It didn’t escape Lucifer how, the second they stepped out of the elevator, Oliver immediately started canvassing the new environment, his blue eyes wary as he scanned the room for threats.

“Relax, Mr. Queen,” Lucifer said, amusement coloring his tone. “No one is going to attack you. Well, except perhaps Maze, but she’s hardly ever around here anymore.” Perhaps he should have left out the part about Maze, because Oliver didn’t completely relax until Felicity put a hand on his arm. He looked over at her, stared at her for a long moment, and his demeanor softened. Lucifer resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Anyway,” he said, moving to his bar and pouring himself a drink. Oliver and Felicity remained standing in front of the elevator. “To business.”

“What exactly do you need from Constantine?” Oliver asked.

“From us,” Felicity corrected, not unkindly.

“Right,” Oliver agreed. “From us.”

“There’s a man commiting unspeakable acts in my name,” Lucifer explained impatiently, at a loss as to why John hadn’t passed this information along. “He calls himself the Devil, and deals in favors of the nefarious variety.”

“So you need us to protect your reputation?” Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow.

“ _ No _ ,” Lucifer retorted, exasperated. “It’s like I told John- there’s more to it than that. This man, he- When I grant favors, it is  _ always _ ultimately for the benefit of the asker of the favor. Even then, I’m picky about which favors I grant, and to whom. If I believe the request might harm the person asking at any point, I don’t grant it. This man takes no such care. He is hurting people, killing them. I refuse to let him destroy millenia of hard work.” The thought made him so angry that for a split second his true face was revealed, accompanying the flare up of his temper. Felicity cried out in surprise, and Oliver reached over his shoulder, as if to draw an arrow from a quiver that wasn’t there. It was their reactions that brought Lucifer back to himself.

“My apologies,” he said, his voice deceptively casual, fixing his glamor back in place. “I’m afraid my temper got away from me for a moment there. Now, do you both understand the situation?” It was Felicity who spoke.

“I think so,” she said, voice quiet, as if she were afraid that speaking too loudly might provoke Lucifer again. “We’ll need time though. To gather evidence, and...other stuff.”

“You have it,” Lucifer said, eager to put the entire matter of his true face behind them. He could tell from the look in their eyes, though, that they would begin searching for an explanation for it the second they left him. They didn’t seem to have much experience with the supernatural. “Just try not to take too much. I want this matter resolved as quickly as possible.” After centuries of ruling Hell, Lucifer was a being used to having his demands obeyed, and his companions must have sensed this, as they offered not a word in protest. Lucifer heard the elevator doors slide open, and when he looked back, he was alone.


	3. Chapter 3

“What the hell was that?” Felicity asked in a low, urgent voice as they emerged into the bright California sunshine, leaning close as if she were afraid they might be overheard. “Oliver, what the  _ hell _ was that?”

“I don’t know, Felicity,” Oliver replied. It was a struggle to keep the frustration out of his voice- he was well aware of how woefully inadequate their knowledge of the supernatural was. “I just don’t know.” Felicity huffed. Oliver knew how much she  _ hated _ not knowing. 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing her arm and gently turning her to face him, much to the consternation of the other pedestrians on the sidewalk, who now had to steer around the pair. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I’ll call Constantine and see if he can fill us in on some of this stuff. It’s going to be fine. Alright?” Felicity nodded, but she didn’t exactly look reassured. Oliver sighed and stepped out of the path of the other pedestrians to make the call.

Constantine picked up after the first ring.

“What do you want, Oliver?” he asked gruffly. He sounded annoyed, but then, he usually sounded that way.

“We...saw something,” Oliver said. “With Lucifer. Something we can’t explain.”

“And you want me to do what?” Constantine said scornfully. “Explain it to you? I don’t have the time or the patience for that, Queen.” A pause, then he asked “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’? Oh bloody hell, tell me you didn’t bring your girlfriend with you.”

“Finding the unfindable is exactly her area of expertise,” Oliver replied, with a glance toward her. “She could track this guy down in half the time it would take me to do it, whoever he is.” 

“Do you even realize how much danger you’ve put her in by involving her in this?” Constantine said, his words striking like a dagger in Oliver’s heart. “Haven’t you ever noticed that the bad guys you go after love to threaten her to get to you?”

“Felicity can handle herself,” Oliver replied fervently, knowing- and hoping- that it was true.

“I hope so,” Constantine said bluntly. “For both your sakes.” For a moment, there was silence. Finally, Oliver asked “Are you going to help us or not?”

“Fine,” Constantine grumbled. “If only so you don’t end up getting yourselves killed by pissing off the wrong supernatural being.”

Constantine chose what seemed to be the darkest, seediest dive bar in Los Angeles as their meeting place, exactly the sort of place he felt comfortable in- and that he assumed Oliver would not. The fact that he had even made such an assumption proved just how distant their friendship actually was. Oliver had been in much worse places than this.

“Oliver,” Constantine grunted when he spotted them. “Didn’t think you’d show.”

“It’ll take a lot more than some seedy little dive bar to scare me away,” Oliver replied nonchalantly. “I’ve been in much worse places.” Constantine nodded, seeming to know exactly what kind of worse places, but didn’t bring them up.

“Follow me,” he said, leading them to a booth in what had to be the darkest corner in the place.

“Wouldn’t want anyone to overhear,” he said in response to questioning looks from Oliver and Felicity. “Bit of a sensitive subject.” He slid into the booth, his coat rustling against the fabric on the seat. Oliver and Felicity slid in across from him, settling into place in the corner of the booth with Oliver slumped against the back of it, his arm draped over the top, and Felicity leaning into his side. Their repose looked casual to the untrained eye, but it served two purposes- it afforded Oliver a view of the door, and allowed him to shield Felicity in the event that a fight broke out. Constantine glanced between them for a minute, then shrugged. 

“So,” he said, affecting a lazy, uninterested drawl. “What did Lucifer do that you can’t explain?” Oliver and Felicity glanced at each other.

“Something happened with his face,” Felicity said, the two of them coming to an unspoken consensus. “For a split second, his skin turned all red, and blackned, like he’d been in a fire. It was the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some pretty horrifying things.”

“Ah,” Constantine said. “Well, you see, that was his real face.”

“What?” Oliver and Felicity asked in unison.

“The handsome, dark haired gentleman he seems to be is a glamor,” Constantine explained, an impatient, exasperated “Well duh!” tone to his voice. “The face you saw for that split second, the red, scorched one? That’s his real face. He’s the Devil.” He held up a hand to silence the oncoming protests.

“I don’t just mean that he  _ claims _ to be the Devil,” he continued. “I mean he’s the literal Devil, the ruler of Hell. Or at least he was until, as I understand it, he got tired of playing a part in his father’s play and came to Los Angeles to take a vacation. Lucifer Morningstar isn’t just a stage name.”

“I don’t believe in the Devil,” Felicity muttered darkly.

“Well, tough,” Constantine snapped. “He exists, whether or not you believe in him, and now the two of you have gotten yourselves tangled up in his bullshite.”

“It sounds like you have personal experience with that,” Oliver said, his tone carefully neutral.

“When he left Hell, the demonic hordes became restless with no one there to keep them in line,” Constantine growled. “They’re determined to overrun this world now that there’s no Lucifer to hold them back. For the past three years I’ve been fighting to keep them at bay, and Manny, the condescending bastard,  _ won’t bloody help me _ .” No one bothered to ask who Manny was. They got the feeling he wasn’t a who so much as a what, and that what was something just as unbelievable as Lucifer Morningstar being the Devil.

“Well,  _ thankfully _ ,” Felicity said, ever the optimist, “the guy we’re looking for is just a guy, right? Not, I don’t know, a fallen angel, or a demon, or something?”

“So far that seems to be the case, yes,” Constantine agreed, nodding.

“Good,” Felicity said. “That means we can find him. As long as we’ve doing this, I’ve gotten good at finding people who don’t want to be found. I guarantee he won’t stay hidden for long.” Oliver shot Constantine a look that said  _ See why I brought her along? _ Constantine sighed.

“You’ve made your point, Queen,” he grumbled. “Is there anything else?”

“Not at the moment,” Oliver replied. “But I make no promises about later.” Constantine muttered something about insufferable idiots under his breath. The group fell silent, the background noise of the bar, ignored up until that point, filtering in.

“We should get going,” Felicity spoke up. “It’s late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow.” Oliver nodded and leaned back in the booth to allow her to gather her things and slide out of it. He followed after her, a quick nod in Constantine’s direction the only form of goodbye they exchanged.


	4. Chapter 4

Oliver woke to early morning sunlight streaming in through the hotel room window and an empty bed. He sat up, sheets rustling, to find Felicity seated at the desk, where she’d set up a laptop and several tablets in an attempt to approximate the setup in the lair as closely as possible.

“Hey,” he said softly, crossing the room and kissing her in the hollow where her neck met her shoulder. “How long have you been up?”

“All night,” she replied, exhaustion plain in her voice. “I lay in bed for about an hour after you fell asleep, but I couldn’t to get to sleep. I’ve been trying to find information on Lucifer’s mysterious adversary.”

“Any luck?” Oliver asked.

“None,” Felicity replied, shaking her head. She sighed in frustration. “I mean, we have  _ nothing _ on this guy.  _ Nothing _ . Lucifer didn’t give us a name, and all I’m getting when I Google ‘Devil in Los Angeles’ is our not so dear friend Mr. Morningstar himself.”

“Thought you had magic fingers,” Oliver said with a half smile.

“Oh, don’t tease, Oliver,” Felicity retorted, but with no bite to her words. “Even my quote unquote magic fingers can’t find someone with no name.”

“You’re not going to have much more luck running on no sleep,” Oliver advised. “Come back to bed. It’s still early. We can pay Lucifer a visit once you’re rested.” He massaged Felicity’s shoulders, a form of gentle coercion. She groaned and leaned into his touch.

“All right,” she conceded. “It’s lucky you’re so persuasive.” Oliver hummed assent and followed her over to the bed.

When next Oliver woke, it was late afternoon. He sat up with a gasp, chest heaving. He climbed out of bed and went to the window. The warm, golden California sunshine wasn’t as much of a comfort as it might have been. Behind him, he heard the rustle of sheets and the pad of bare feet on carpet.

“Hey,” Felicity said in a soft, concerned voice, resting a hand on his arm. “Nightmare?” She knew him so well. It might have made him smile, had the pall of his dream not still been hanging over him.

“Yeah,” he managed, voice hoarse.

“Oh, Oliver,” Felicity whispered. There was so much just in those two words- sorrow, sympathy, compassion, love- that it made Oliver’s heart ache. He was grateful, though, that she didn’t ask if he wanted to talk about it. He suspected she knew that the answer would be no. He rolled his shoulders, as if his dream had physical weight that he could shake off of them.

“We should get going,” he said. “If we want to catch Lucifer while he’s not busy, we need to get to Lux before it opens.”

“Why do you know so much about the habits of nightclub owners?” Felicity asked. Oliver didn’t have to turn and look at her to know that she was smiling.

“I used to be one,” he said. “Don’t you remember?” He turned and kissed her on the cheek, then moved past her to get dressed. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Felicity make the bed and tidy everything up, to make things easier for the hotel staff. It was just one of the many things he loved about her, how considerate she was.

They arrived at Lux to find the doors unlocked, though it wouldn’t be open for business for another few hours. Oliver supposed that Lucifer, being the Devil, didn’t have to worry about his place of business being robbed, especially since- according to Constantine- one of his bartenders was a demon. When they entered, the first thing they saw was Lucifer seated at a glossy black grand piano, swaying in time to the music he was playing and apparently lost in his own world. Felicity cleared her throat, the sound echoing in the empty nightclub. The music stopped abruptly, and Lucifer turned to spot them standing by the door.

“Back so soon?” he asked. “Any luck finding information on that mysterious adversary of mine?”

“None,” Felicity answered bluntly. “Of course, it’s a little hard to find the guy when you didn’t see fit to provide me with his name, at least.”

“I can’t provide what I don’t have,” Lucifer said evenly, apparently unaffected by Felicity’s evident frustration.

“Then how the hell do you suggest I find him?” Felicity snapped. Oliver rested a calming hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him for a moment before turning back to Lucifer and fixing him with a pointed glare, a silent demand for an answer. Lucifer shrugged lazily, seemingly unconcerned with the specifics of the investigative process.

“Have you tried setting a trap?” he asked. “If you made it known that you were seeking someone who grants favors, I’m sure he would find his way to you eventually.”

“That’s...actually not a bad idea,” Felicity said. She cocked her head to one side, considering.

“You’d have to make it particularly enticing,” Lucifer put in. “The sort of favor, perhaps, that normally only I would have the ability to grant. If there’s one thing about this man that may be counted upon, it’s his ego.”

“So you’re saying it’s a point of pride for this guy that he’s able to achieve through ordinary means what I assume you do through supernatural ones?” Felicity asked.

“Precisely,” Lucifer agreed, inclining his head in a half nod.

“Well, this trip turned out to be more productive than I was expecting,” Felicity muttered. Oliver couldn’t say that he disagreed with her. He’d suggested paying Lucifer a visit on the off chance that he might know something they didn’t, but he hadn’t actually been expecting the trip to yield anything useful.

“Glad I could be of service,” Lucifer said with an amused smile. The statement, while cordial, was clearly meant as a dismissal. As far as Lucifer went, this seemed to be par for the course. They had both reached the point where they had stopped questioning his odd quirks, so they left without a goodbye. They had work to do, after all.

“Okay,” Felicity said, back in their hotel room, sitting cross legged in the desk chair. “I’ve put out a request in every place on the Internet I could think to put something like that.”

“So now we wait?” Oliver asked. 

“Now we wait,” Felicity confirmed, nodding. Oliver kissed her on the top of her head and edged himself onto the bed, one leg hanging over the edge, the other folded underneath him. They settled in to wait, Felicity passing the time by browsing aimlessly on her phone, Oliver by alternating between pacing the length of their hotel room and reading, though it became clear when he went an hour without turning a single page that he wasn’t having the best luck focusing enough to actually do anything that even resembled reading. A few hours later, around midnight, when both of them were drowsing nearly to the point of falling asleep, something on the desk made a dinging sound.

“We got a hit,” Felicity announced, perhaps unnecessarily. “He said, and I quote, ‘I am intrigued by your offer’. He wants us to meet him in the boathouse under the Santa Monica pier this time tomorrow.”

“I left my gear at home,” Oliver said.

“I know,” Felicity reminded him, “but that’s okay. It’s probably better that you meet him as Oliver Queen and not the Green Arrow at this point anyway. We don’t want to show our hand too soon.”

“Right,” Oliver said. Makes sense.” He took a deep breath, his shoulders lifting. Letting it out in a heavy sigh, he said, “So we’re doing this.” Felicity nodded.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect it to happen so soon,” she said. “Usually it takes a lot longer before we come face to face with whoever we’re up against.” Oliver nodded in agreement.

“It’ll be fine,” Felicity added, noticing the unease he’d been trying to hide. “If anything goes wrong, I can text Barry and he can run your gear over here before our mysterious friend has time to do anything to either of us.”

“It’s not us I’m worried about,” Oliver muttered, but let the matter lie.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I saw fit to include Deckerstar in the relationship tags for this fic, I thought it was time I finally gave you guys a Deckerstar chapter. 
> 
> This was my first time writing Chloe, so I hope I got her characterization correct!

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer tried to ignore the way some small part of his soul- if indeed he still had one- leapt at the sound of that voice.

“Detective!” he said with his usual enthusiasm, turning to face her. The anger in her expression and posture took him aback, but he breezed on. “What brings you here this fine afternoon? Do we have another case?”

“Not exactly,” Chloe snapped, throwing an open file folder down on the table in front of Lucifer, where it landed with a loud  _ smack _ . Lucifer looked it over, a pit opening in his stomach. It contained photographs, witness statements, criminal confessions, all pertaining to the man the Queens were hunting at his behest.

“Explain this,” Chloe said, jabbing a finger at the file. “ _ Now _ .” Still her anger confused him. Until it dawned on him.

“Detective,” he said, the word coming out as an imploring whisper. “ _ Chloe _ . You can’t seriously believe that  _ I  _ did this?” Chloe’s only reaction to Lucifer’s use of her given name was a slight widening of her eyes, though he was sure she could count on one hand the number of times he had used it. It was precious to him, her name. Something he wasn’t worthy of speaking, except under very select circumstances.

“The statements in here mention a man who called himself the Devil, and making deals with him,” Chloe said, voice taut. “That’s  _ your _ MO, Lucifer.” Lucifer looked deep into her pale blue eyes and saw beyond the anger in them, to find hurt. Hurt and betrayal and fear. His heart squeezed in his chest.

“Chloe,” he said, risking using her name a second time. “I know what it looks like, but I assure you,  _ I didn’t do this _ .” His eyes flashed red before he managed to rein in his temper. Chloe leaned back away from him, just slightly. From the pain in his chest, she may as well have just stabbed him in the heart.

“I want to believe that, Lucifer,” she said, her voice quivering with the emotions Lucifer had seen in her eyes, the ones she was clearly trying desperately to keep in check. “I really do. But that’s not what the evidence says.”

“Detective,” Lucifer implored, not willing to chance using her name again. He held her face between his hands- the most non platonic contact he’d risked since finding out that his father had put Chloe in his path- and looked deep into her eyes. “You know I would never lie to you. Please. I need you to trust me on this. I didn’t do this, but I  _ will _ find the person who did and ensure that he is properly punished. I promise.” It didn’t escape him how Chloe had gone still beneath his hands, likely considering her next move.

“Alright,” she said, biting out the word. She jerked her head back, putting distance between them. Physical and emotional- he saw the careful, emotionless mask that slipped over her features as she pulled away. “Fine. I’ll trust you on this. But if anyone else in the precinct starts investigating you in connection to it, I won’t stop them. Deal?” That last statement might have hurt him, had he not known her so well. Above all, she wished to see justice done, no matter who may have committed the crime.

“Making a deal with the Devil, Detective?” Lucifer asked with a lascivious smile, trying to distance himself from the thoughts swirling through his head. 

“ _ No _ ,” Chloe said. It wasn’t a response to his query, but a command. “You will  _ not _ joke like that. Not after what I just showed you- at the risk of my job, by the way.” Her hands clenched into fistst at her sides, but not before Lucifer saw that they were shaking.

“Apologies, Detective,” he said in a soft voice. “That was in poor taste.”

“Yeah, you’re damn right,” Chloe said, the shaky quality of her voice betraying the intensity of her emotions. She turned on her heel and marched out of Lux, her shoulders high and tense and her back as straight and unmoving as a steel rod.

Some time later, Lucifer sat at his piano, on his third glass of scotch, trying desperately to drown out the memory of the hurt and anger and betrayal in Chloe’s eyes with music and alcohol. He couldn’t. It was stuck there, as inescapable- and as maddening- as the supposed word of his father that humanity wouldn’t stop touting. His every breath seemed to whisper the apology he so desperately wished to give her.

Then, miraculously, he heard, “Lucifer.” It was softer than it had been before, with no anger in it. A plea, rather than a demand. He turned to face Chloe, smiling because she expected him to be, expected to see the facade of the unflappable Lucifer Morningstar, whose troubles slid off of him like water off of a duck’s back.

“Drop the act, Lucifer,” Chloe said in a tired voice.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Detective,” Lucifer lied, with a levity he did not feel.  When had Chloe learned to see through him so easily? She looked askance at him, eyes as weary as her voice had been, and Lucifer decided that there was no reason to continue the charade when it clearly wasn’t working. He sighed, his shoulders slumping, the fake smile falling from his face.

“Why are you here, Detective?” he asked, his voice as tired as Chloe’s had been.

“I don’t know,” Chloe said, shifting from one foot to the other, and Lucifer heard the truth of her words in the tone of her voice. “I just...we didn’t part on very good terms, and I feel like that’s my fault.”

“You were only doing your job, Detective,” Lucifer replied, shaking his head vigorously. He did not wish for her to feel any guilt for doing what she was supposed to do. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Chloe blinked.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice, as though she’d been expecting a diffferent response. “Anyway, I...my captain got wind of the case. I assured him that you aren’t responsible. That you would never do something like that. I should have known that in the first place, but-” She cut herself off with a shrug. Lucifer stared at her for a moment, overcome with emotion. Then, almost before he knew he was moving, he crossed the space between them, took her face in his hands, and kissed her.

“Lucifer…” Chloe said when he pulled back. No doubt she was remembering when she had kissed him on the beach, when he’d still believed that what they had was real. Before he’d learned the truth.

“Thank you,” Lucifer said fervently, before she had a chance to finish gathering her thoughts. He feared that within the next few minutes, when she spoke again, he would come to regret his actions.

“You...you’ve been keeping me at arm’s length for months,” Chloe finally managed. “For  _ months _ . Why this, now? Why the sudden change?”

“I don’t know,” Lucifer admitted. “I suppose words simply didn’t quite convey the depths of my gratitude.” He smiled then, a real smile this time.

“Why don’t you say thank you like that more often?” Chloe teased. Her expression turning serious, she added, “You’ve been so distant lately, and I was afraid…” She trailed off, gesturing vaguely with one hand. 

“I am truly sorry, Detective,” Lucifer said, understanding what she was finding herself unable to articulate, “for any distress I have caused you. It was never my intention to hurt you.” He hoped Chloe could hear in his voice how deeply he felt the truth of his words. The last thing he had ever desired was to cause her pain. Chloe threw her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. He froze, caught of guard for a moment, but reciprocated the gesture, enclosing her in the protective circle of his arms.

“I wish we could stay this way forever,” Chloe whispered, resting her head against his chest.

“If I could find a way to make that happen, I would,” Lucifer promised her, his voice heavy with affection. “You know I would do anything for you, Detective.”


	6. Chapter 6

Oliver crept through through the boathouse, Felicity close behind. He hated the darkness and the crashing of the wave. They made it next to impossible to identify any possible traps or ambushes. He didn’t like feeling so vulnerable in the field, especially with Felicity there.

“Thank you for meeting me,” spoke a voice in the darkness. A moment later, the owner of the voice stepped out into a bar of moonlight slanting through the boathouse. He was pale where Lucifer was dark- white suit instead of black, light hair instead of dark, blue eyes instead of obsidian ones- but he had the same air of danger about him, the same wicked, dagger sharp smile. He even had the same accent, though that sounded as though it might be fake. “Though I must admit, I was expecting Star City’s vigilante, not its mayor.” Oliver felt a chill race down his spine.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb, Mr. Queen,” the man said. “It ill becomes you. Like our mutual friend Lucifer Morningstar, I have ways of obtaining information.” There was a very distinct threat in his voice.

“What do you want?” Oliver growled, responding to that threat despite his best efforts not to give the man he faced the satisfaction.

“For you to call off this ridiculous crusade,” the man in white said. He spread his hands. “You’ve seen me. I exist. There’s no reason for you to continue attempting to interfere in my business.”

“Lucifer wants you stopped,” Oliver said bluntly.

“And why should Mr. Morningstar’s desires be any concern of yours?” the man asked. “Since you have a reputation for being damnably obstinate, let me put it to you this way- if you don’t stop of your own accord, I will  _ make _ you.” His words left the distinct impression that the threat he was leveling was not against Oliver himself. Without thinking, he reached out behind him toward Felicity, as if to shield her or keep her back. Their adversary zeroed in on the movement. His smile was deadly.

“Ah yes,” he said. “You understand.”

“Felicity,” Oliver hissed in an urgent voice, turning his head toward her. 

“On it,” she replied, pulling out her phone to text Barry.

“I wouldn’t do that,” the man in white warned. “If you do  _ anything _ to prevent me from leaving, neither of you will make it out of here alive.” He leveled his gaze on Oliver. “And I will kill her first and make  _ you _ watch.” Oliver froze. For a moment, he wasn’t in the boathouse. He was in a cold, damp dungeon, hearing Adrian Chase say “She didn’t even know I was in her apartment.” He was in a high rise office building, watching the Count reach back to jab needles full of Vertigo into Felicity’s neck. He was on a boat, watching plumes of smoke and fire rising up from the shore of Lian Yu, desperately calling Felicity’s name over the comms, hoping against hope to hear her voice calling back to him.

“Oliver.” Felicity’s voice brought him back to the present. Their enemy’s smile had shifted from deadly to calculating. Oliver lifted his hands in surrender, gesturing for Felicity to put her phone away. She did, without a word of protest. It was clear how precarious the situation was.

“Good,” Lucifer’s antagonist said with a pleased nod. “I am glad you are not so stubborn as to be  _ completely _ unreasonable. He was met with silence. They both knew better than to respond and risk provoking him. 

“I will leave you with one final warning,” he said after a moment. “Do  _ not _ go to Lucifer about what transpired here. I  _ will  _ find out, and you  _ will  _ regret it.” He stood there for another minute, letting his threat sink in, then turned and disappeared from sight. He didn’t leave through any discernible exit. He seemed to simply disappear, there one instant and gone the next, leaving them alone with the darkness and the crashing of the surf.

“Oliver!” Felicity called. She had to jog to keep up with the rapid pace he’d set after they’d left the boathouse, eager to put as much distance between them and it as possible. She drew even with him and caught his elbow, jerking him to a halt.

“Oliver,” she implored, moving in front of him, her hand still on his arm. “What happened back there?”

“That guy threatened to kill you and make me watch,” Oliver said carefully, wary of stirring up memories again.

“I heard,” Felicity said, with a bluntness in her tone that she most likely did not intend.

“And for a moment...I wasn’t in the boathouse,” Oliver went on. “I was in a dungeon hearing Chase threaten you, and I was back at Queen Consolidated watching the Count about to inject you with Vertigo, and...I was on that boat, calling your name over the comms, desperately hoping that you would answer me-” His voice cracked. He drew in a shaky breath.

“Hey,” Felicity soothed, reaching up to cradle his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

“It’s terrifying how easy it is for the people we go after to get to me,” Oliver said in a low voice, leaning into her touch, his eyes drifting closed. “All they have to do is threaten you and I’m helpless. I came so close to losing you...I don’t know what I would do if I did. I don’t think I’d have the strength to survive it.”

“No point worrying about something that hasn’t happened, is there?” Felicity asked. “Right now we’re fine. Everything’s fine. Let’s just work with that.” She stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed Oliver on the forehead, then stepped back. The smile on his face was hard to describe. It was almost...rapturous.

“We need to figure out what to do next,” she said matter of factly. “Lucifer needs to know about what happened.” Oliver tensed.

“We can’t go to him with this,” he said, his voice tinged with fear. “You heard what that guy said- he’ll make us regret it. I don’t want to find out how.”

“He still needs to know this information,” Felicity pointed out. “Somehow.” She tapped her foot against the ground, thinking. “What if we’re not the ones to tell him? Could we get someone to pass the information on to him on our behalf?”

“That might work,” Oliver conceded. “If Constantine’s still in town, he could get the message to him.” Felicity nodded and looked at him expectantly. He sent Constantine a text message, because he trusted the encryption Felicity had put on it that prevented it from being hacked into implicitly, but feared an actual conversation could be listened in on. It might have been overcautious, but overcaution had saved his life a hundred times over. Constantine’s response was a single word.  _ Fine _ . 

“It’s done,” he announced. “Lucifer should be getting word of this any day now.” Felicity nodded.

“So I guess now we wait to see what he does with the information?” she asked.

“Now we wait,” Oliver confirmed.


	7. Chapter 7

For the second time in as many weeks, Constantine found himself in Lucifer Morningstar’s bed. He’d come to Lux to deliver news from the Queens, but he had something else on his mind as well, a question that he was burning to ask but was afraid to put words to. And so he’d distracted himself by throwing himself at Lucifer, knowing that he never turned down an opportunity for meaningless sex. But, as distractions always were, that had been temporary, and now Constantine found himself drowning in a hurricane of his own thoughts.

  
“John?” Lucifer asked. His voice was soft in a way Constantine had never heard before. It was almost as if he cared. “What’s on your mind? You mentioned that you had a message for me?”

  
“Right,” Constantine grunted, managing to pull himself out of the swirling tides. “Yeah. The Queens met that mysterious adversary of yours.”

  
“Their trap worked?” Lucifer asked. There was something like eagerness in his voice. “Did they get his name? Could they describe him to a sketch artist?”

  
“Yes,” Constantine replied. “No, and no. Well actually, in regards to that last one, I’m sure they _could_ , but they won’t.”

“Why not?” Lucifer demanded. His tone had shifted from eagerness to anger.

  
“He threatened them,” Constantine said simply. “Told them that if they told anyone about what had happened, but especially you, they would regret it. That’s why I’m here. It was the only way to get the information to you without him knowing.”

  
“Bloody hell,” Lucifer snarled in frustration. “And I don’t suppose he happened to mention what his plan is?” Constantine shook his head by way of answer.  
“Damn it!” Lucifer shouted, getting up from the bed, and starting to get dressed. “Damn it all to Hell!” Constantine winced in spite of himself.

  
“I’m sorry John,” Lucifer said, noticing it. That odd softness was in his voice again. “Poor choice of words.” Constantine didn’t speak for a minute, because there it was. The question he’d been yearning to ask but was afraid to. It was staring him in the face now. He felt himself sinking down into a deep weariness that dragged at his soul like a lead weight.  
“How is she?” he managed finally.

  
“She’s fine,” Lucifer responded immediately. He didn’t have to ask who Constantine was talking about. “Doing splendidly, I might say. I’m sure Father would have expected she’d be tortured like all the other souls in Hell, but she was never supposed to be there in the first place, so I’ve allowed her to grow up as a normal child would, albeit in my realm rather than this one.” He paused, still only half dressed, and studied Constantine for a moment.  
“But that guilt won’t go away, will it?” he asked.

  
“No. Never,” Constantine replied fervently. “An innocent girl was damned to Hell because I got in over my head and was too bloody stubborn to admit it. You said it yourself- she was never supposed to be there.”  
“I could make a comment about letting that go,” Lucifer said, “but I know you would never listen.”

  
“Since when do you care?” Constantine snapped, his guilt making him hostile.

  
“John,” Lucifer said, again with that strange softness. “I have always cared.” The confession threw Constantine for a loop. He wasn’t sure how to respond.  
“You could at least say something,” Lucifer said after the silence had stretched on for a while. “It’s not...easy for me to admit that I care about someone.”

  
“Why?” Constantine snarked. “Because caring interferes with your persona?” Lucifer shook his head.  
“Because when I care about someone, it puts them in danger,” he said, voice grave.

  
“Save your worry for someone who needs it, Luci,” Constantine said sharply. “I can take care of myself.”

  
“You have to stop doing that, John,” Lucifer said solemnly. “You _have_ to stop using hostility to distance yourself whenever you think someone might be starting to care about you.”

  
“You first,” Constantine shot back. Lucifer didn’t respond, because although that had been a particularly low blow, it was nevertheless accurate. Constantine was adept at hitting people right where it hurt the most. It was a skill that, in his angrier, more bitter moments, he was quite proud of. The silence lengthened, heavy with things that needed to be said but that neither of them dared to speak aloud.  
“I should go,” Constantine said finally, breaking it. He rolled over to where his clothes were laying in a crumpled heap and started to get dressed.

  
“Wait,” Lucifer said suddenly, leaning over the bed and grabbing Constantine’s arm. “Stay. Please. Just for tonight.”

Constantine twisted around to study Lucifer over his shoulder. There was desperation in his obsidian eyes. And loneliness. It was like looking into a mirror. He sighed. He didn’t respond to Lucifer’s request, except to pull his arm out of his grip and finish getting dressed. He hesitated as he was about to get up from the bed. He knew he should leave. Allowing himself to become entangled with Lucifer was dangerous. It was messy. It might very well get him killed. The smart thing to do would be to make himself scarce before that could happen. Lucifer would find someone else to distract him. Or multiple someones. But he was John Constantine. He did stupid in spades.

  
“Alright,” he said, falling back into the bed, fully clothed. “Fine.” Lucifer’s response was a beatific smile. Constantine found that he preferred his usual dangerously seductive one. At least with that one he could still pretend that he was just another one of Lucifer’s conquests.

  
“Don’t smile at me like that,” he said, voice tense. “I don’t want to mean something to you.  
“Too late,” Lucifer murmured, watching him with those glittering black eyes. Constantine sighed and rolled over to face away from him. He could feel his eyes boring into his back, but he refused to turn back toward him. He needed a moment of even the illusion of privacy to contemplate the enormous mistake he had likely made. He knew that he was in for a long night


	8. Chapter 8

John was long gone- he’d left hours ago- but the scent of brimstone, ash, and tobacco smoke that he carried with him everywhere he went still lingered in the air, and so Lucifer found himself with his mind on the Hellblazer. It had been foolish of him to open up about how much he truly cared about him. He should have known that it would make him balk. He wasn’t Chloe, after all. It had become painfully clear, when John had fled at the first hint of daylight, that he had only stayed last night as a courtesy to Lucifer, and a paltry one at that. He was distracted from his musings by Chloe entering the penthouse. She paused briefly near the door, wrinkling her nose at the scent in the air.

“What brings you by, Detective?” Lucifer asked. “Surely, with it being the weekend, it isn’t work related.” Chloe shook her head.

“Has it ever occured to you that maybe I might have reasons to be here that have nothing to do with work?” she asked, her smile making it clear that she was teasing. “Trixie wanted me to invite you over for movie night.”

“Trixie wanted you to?” Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow. Chloe fidgeted, eyes downcast.

“I want you to come too,” she admitted. A few hours ago, Lucifer would have wondered why she seemed so hesitant to tell him that she wanted him around. Now, he understood.

“I’d be delighted,” he said. A change of pace and scenery, he decided, might do him good. It might at least allow him to stop moping about John. Weekends were, of course, some of the busiest nights at Lux, but he trusted his employees to be able to run it without him for a night. He was coming to find that he rather preferred the prospect of a quiet night with Chloe and her offspring than another one of crazed partying anyway.

“Great!” Chloe said. She seemed surprised that he’d agreed to come. “I’ll see you tonight then?” 

“You have my word, Detective,” Lucifer replied.

That night, Lucifer arrived at Chloe’s house at the appointed time and rang the bell. From inside, he heard the excited patter of Trixie’s footsteps running toward the door, followed by Chloe’s slower tread.

“Lucifer!” Trixie cried excitedly when Chloe opened the door, throwing her arms around Lucifer’s legs. “You came you came you came!”

“Yes, child,” Lucifer said awkwardly, extricate himself from her grip. “Do me a favor and go bother Maze for a bit, would you?” Chloe, apparently deciding to come to Lucifer’s rescue, dropped down into a crouch so that she was on Trixie’s eye level and said, “Monkey, why don’t you run inside and get everything set up?”

“Okay!” Trixie replied excitedly, and dashed inside. Chloe ruffled her hair fondly as she passed, then turned to Lucifer.

“Thank you for the save, Detective,” Lucifer said, adjusting his cuffs, the closest thing he had to a nervous tic.

“You’d think you’d be used to her antics by now,” Chloe replied with a laugh, “but you’re welcome.” She paused, then said, “I’m glad you came” in a soft, affectionate voice.

“Of course,” Lucifer said, deflecting for the moment, but mentally filing Chloe’s actions away for later review. “I gave you my word.”

“And your word is your bond,” Chloe said, quoting him directly.

“Just so,” he agreed with a dip of his head. “Shall we?” Chloe nodded and Lucifer followed her inside, closing the door behind him. He glanced around for Maze reflexively. She was nowhere that he could see, not that it mattered. He wasn’t here for her.

“Lucifer!” Trixie called, drawing his attention over to the living room. She patted the seat next to her. “Come sit over here by me!”

“I don’t think he wants-” Chloe began.

“It’s alright Detective,” Lucifer interjected. “I will happily sit wherever your offspring would like me to.” Chloe raised an eyebrow at that, seeming surprised, but said nothing. Lucifer settled into the seat Trixie had offered him. Chloe sat down beside him, and he felt complete. Like this was where he was meant to be.

Lucifer spent the next few hours watching silly children’s movies with Trixie curled up in his lap and Chloe resting her head on his shoulder. He found himself thinking, oddly enough, of the Queens. Of the two of them, Oliver in particular seemed perpetually exhausted, as though he was constantly being pulled in several different directions at once. Lucifer hoped that somewhere in his apparently hectic life he had periods of rest such as this, quiet moments spent with his wife and son. If not, he hoped he could find them somewhere someday. He wasn’t sure why he cared. Empathy for others was still an unfamiliar sensation to him.

When Lucifer returned to Lux, he was surprised to find the Queens waiting there for him. The circumstances were remarkably similar to that of their first meeting. They were even seated at the same table as they had been then.

“We need a new plan,” Oliver said without preamble when Lucifer approached.

“Hey,” Felicity said, but to soothe, not to scold. Even Lucifer could see that Oliver was much more tense than usual. Whatever had happened when the two of them had  sprung their trap must have really spooked him. Lucifer felt a twinge of regret for having put him in that position. After a moment of heavy silence, Oliver finally visibly relaxed, if only a little.

“So, you were saying about needing a new plan?” Lucifer asked.

“The guy you’re after...he knows you’re onto him,” Oliver explained. “More specifically, he knows that  _ we’re _ onto him, on your behalf, and we-we can’t keep after him. He made it clear what would happen to us if we do.”

“So what we need to do,” Felicity put in, picking up the thread of the conversation, “is figure out some way of obtaining his name so we can anonymously tip off the police and make him their problem instead of ours.” 

“Can we even trust the cops though?” Oliver muttered.

“This isn’t Star City, Oliver,” Felicity reminded him. In response to Lucifer’s puzzled frown, she said, “We had a problem back home with a corrupt police force. Most of it was in the pocket of a drug lord, and those members of it that weren’t didn’t stay on the force for long.” Lucifer nodded.

“I’ll reach out to Maze,” he said, ignoring for the moment the fact that neither of them knew who Maze was. “She recently started a career as a bounty hunter, so I’m sure she has ways of getting the type of information you seek.” Oliver and Felicity nodded in understanding.

“Thank you,” Oliver said, getting up from the table. His thanks sounded much more fervent than Lucifer would have expected it to be. What exactly had his mysterious adversary threatened him with, that the prospect of being able to pass the task of finding him off to someone else filled him with such great relief? Lucifer watched the way Oliver leaned protectively toward Felicity as they left Lux, and wondered if perhaps his enemy’s threat had had something to do with her.


	9. Chapter 9

“You okay?” Felicity asked as they left Lux behind them, resting a hand on Oliver’s arm. “You seemed really tense back there.” Oliver smiled in spite of himself. She’d noticed. Of course she’d noticed. She always did.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just worried.” 

“Wouldn’t be you if you weren’t,” Felicity replied, getting another smile out of him. “Same stuff as before, or different stuff?”

“Same stuff as before,” Oliver said, fidgeting nervously with his wedding ring.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity said empathetically. “I know this must be hard for you. I trust Lucifer on this, though. At the very least, I trust his discretion.”

“Not Constantine’s?” Oliver asked. Felicity shrugged.

“Constantine is...hard to figure out,” she said. “Besides, he doesn’t seem to be too involved in all of this, so I’m not sure his discretion matters all that much.”

“We were able to trust him to get that information to Lucifer though,” Oliver pointed out, not sure why he felt the need to defend him.

“That’s true,” Felicity conceded with a slight nod. “Anyway, I know it’s difficult, but you don’t need to worry so much. We’re fine. He isn’t going to come after us. There’s no reason for him to- he doesn’t know that Lucifer knows about what happened.”

“It’s not us I’m worried about,” Oliver mumbled. “Or even just you.” He fell silent, but in response to Felicity’s bewildered frown, elaborated with “If he knows that I’m the Green Arrow, what else does he know?  _ Who _ does he know about?” There was a long pause while Felicity processed his words.

“Oh my God,” she said quietly to herself. Then, slightly louder, she asked “You think he might go after William?”

“Or Thea,” Oliver said, voice hoarse. 

“I wouldn't worry about Thea,” Felicity said, clearly trying to make him feel better. “I mean,  _ we  _ don't even know where she is right now.”

 “That doesn't necessarily guarantee her safety,” Oliver countered. “We’d had no idea where William was, either, but Adrian Chase still found him.”

 “Do you think we're dealing with another Adrian Chase?”

 “I’m scared that we might be.” Felicity bit her bottom lip anxiously, mulling that over. 

 “If we  _ are _ dealing with another Adrian Chase,” she said at last, “and he  _ does _ try to hurt Thea, I’m sure Roy and Nyssa will keep her safe. You trained Roy yourself, remember. And as for Nyssa...well, I’m pretty sure nothing gets past her unless she allows it to.”

“But what about William?” Oliver asked, worry and fear still gnawing at his insides. “With us here, who is there to keep  _ him _ safe?” Felicity sighed. She couldn’t find the answer to that.

“He probably won’t go after William,” she said. It was a paltry form of comfort, but it was all she could offer. “Or Thea. His problem is with Lucifer, not with us.”

“But we provoked him…” Oliver protested, trailing off. He appreciated the effort Felicity was putting into easing his fears. He just hated that it wasn’t working.

“Can we talk about this later?” he asked. Felicity nodded, that familiar worried crease between her eyebrows, and didn’t press the issue. Oliver was grateful for that. He was grateful for Felicity in general, but in that moment especially that.

By the time they reached the hotel, they had both slipped into a dark, pensive mood. Oliver found that he rather missed the presence of Felicity’s usual cheerful chatter.

“You should call Thea,” she suggested, seemingly out of the blue, when they’d settled in for the night. “It might help put some of your fears to rest.” Oliver nodded. He wasn’t sure how much it would help, but it was a good idea.

“Ollie,” Thea said after the first ring. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I can’t just call you because I miss you?” Oliver asked, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards in the smallest of smiles.

“I mean, you  _ could _ ,” Thea conceded. “But I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Oliver admitted. He explained the situation as succinctly and concisely as possible.

“That sounds terrible,” Thea said when he finished. “It must really scare you that you don't know who this guy is or what he knows or even what he's capable of.”

 “Insightful as always, Speedy,” Oliver told her, and she laughed, though without humor.

 “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice,” she said.

 “How are things going with you?” Oliver asked, eager to change the subject. 

 “Good,” Thea said. “It's been oddly quiet around here lately, actually. We have yet to encounter any trouble, and at this point I'm half afraid that we’ll reach the first Lazarus pit to find that the Thanatos Guild beat us to it and already resurrected my father.” There was genuine worry in her voice, despite her seemingly casual manner. 

“I'm sure you'd have no problem putting him back in the ground if that happens,” Oliver said. It was an odd way to offer reassurance, but he knew his sister well enough to know that it was what she needed to hear.

 “Thanks Ollie,” she said.

 “You’re welcome,” Oliver replied. “Stay safe out there, okay?”

 “I will,” Thea promised, and Oliver had no reason not to believe her. Knowing that she would be alright took a little bit of the weight of worry off of his shoulders. 

  “Feeling better?” Felicity asked. Oliver nodded.

  “That helped a lot,” he said. “Thank you for suggesting it.”

 “You’re welcome,” Felicity replied, her voice soft and affectionate. “I'm glad I found a way to help you.”

“You always do,” Oliver said, his expression serious. He tugged Felicity toward him, and they ended up curled up together on the bed, watching something stupid on TV while Oliver tried to squash the last bits of worry that still clung to him. He knew now that his sister was and would be safe, but that still left the well-being of his son in question.

“William will be fine,” Felicity said, as if she sensed his thoughts. “Between John and Lyla and the team, he’s practically got an army defending him. Not to mention Raisa. I’d like to see anyone try to get to him with Raisa around.”

“I hope you’re right,” Oliver mumbled.

“You know that I am,” Felicity told him, the certainty in her tone leaving no room for argument. They spoke no more on the matter, and in truth Oliver was glad to be able to let it lie for the time being.


	10. Chapter 10

“You just couldn’t stay away, could you?” Lucifer asked, his tone teasing. He slid onto the bar stool next to Constantine’s and laced his fingers through his. Constantine stared at their intertwined hands for a moment, but didn’t pull away.

“I keep finding myself drawn back here,” he reluctantly admitted. “Which is bloody hilarious considering we’ve both got people who ought to be drawing us away from each other. It’s like the entire goddamn universe is having a laugh at my expense.” Lucifer shot him a quizzical look.

“I know about your police detective,” he said. Lucifer shook his head. Apparently that wasn’t the reason for that look.

“Who’s drawing you away from me?” he asked. There was a possessiveness in his tone that Constantine didn’t think he liked. He paused. How to describe the captain of the Waverider to someone who’d never met her? Finally, he settled on, “Her name is Sara,” and left it at that. Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“That’s all I get?” he asked. “Just her name?”

“That’s all,” Constantine confirmed. He set his mouth in a thin, hard line. He knew that Lucifer was going to want to pursue this, but he didn’t want to talk about Sara Lance right now. Lucifer shifted uncomfortably on his bar stool. It was a strange sight. Constantine didn’t think he’d ever see the Devil himself feeling nervous.

“Much as my curiosity is piqued,” Lucifer said at last, “I won’t ask. I’ll just have to accept that if you want to talk about this Sara person, you will.” It wasn’t exactly a promise that he would drop the matter completely, but it’s Lucifer, so Constantine figured that was as close as he was likely to get.

“What’s been going on with you lately?” he asked. “You’re not usually so...considerate.” Lucifer shrugged.

“I’m trying something new,” he said.

“This is because of your police detective, isn’t it?” Constantine asked. He wasn’t jealous, not exactly. He didn’t really know _what_ he was. Lucifer looked like he was considering whether or not he wanted to answer that.

“Yes,” he confirmed after a moment. “It’s because of Chloe.” Constantine noticed the way he said her name, lingering on its syllables. It’s the same way Oliver said Felicity’s name, the same way Constantine had sometimes caught himself saying Lucifer’s. He wondered if that meant he was in love with him. He hoped not. Being in love with the Devil was not something he wanted to contemplate.

“Any word from Maze?” he asked in an attempt to distract himself.

“I think she’d rather you’d call her Mazikeen, if you call her anything at all,” Lucifer remarked instead of answering. “‘Maze’ is a little...familiar for you.”

“Because I hunt demons and that makes her not like me,” Constantine grumbled. “I get it. Just answer the damn question.”

“Not yet,” Lucifer said. There was a touch of impatience in his voice. “But then, it has only been a few days. Maze is probably just busy.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

 “I'm sure,” Constantine said dryly, deciding to go along with it. “What’s the plan when you do finally hear from her?”

“The Queens are going to anonymously tip off the police,” Lucifer said. “I’m sure Chloe will take care of it from there.” Constantine wondered why Lucifer automatically assumed that his crush object with a badge would be the detective on the case. The LAPD had multitudes of detectives, after all.

“Because she already is,” Lucifer said as if reading his mind. “She started working it on her own shortly after you decided to get the Queens involved.”

“I decided to get _Oliver_ involved,” Constantine corrected harshly, not sure why he felt that he needed to defend himself, “and only because I knew _I_ couldn’t help you. I didn’t know he was going to bring his wife along with him.”

“Well, he did,” Lucifer said. Constantine couldn’t tell if he felt annoyed by that fact or resigned to it. “And with her present, the most recent turn of events has made him quite...skittish, which is a word I didn’t think I’d ever be using to describe the Star City vigilante. It seems that during their confrontation with my mysterious adversary, he made some threats, and Oliver’s concern is more with how those threats may affect the lives and safety of his wife and son more than his own.”

“Is that why he’s been insisting on so much secrecy?” Constantine asked. Lucifer nodded.

“He’s worried about what might happen to those he loves if the man they’re hunting finds out that he told me about what happened that night in the boathouse,” he said.

“Never in a million years would I have imagined Oliver Queen as a family man,” Constantine grunted.

“Too much of a playboy?” Lucifer asked with a teasing smile. Constantine shook his head. He had never known Oliver when he was a playboy. He had already left that aspect of himself behind by the time Constantine had met him on Lian Yu.

“Too afraid to love,” he said. “Too afraid that allowing himself to care about someone would put them in danger.”

 “I know the feeling,” Lucifer mumbled.

  “So do I,” Constantine said. “But I suppose we are all learning better.”

  “Some of us more quickly than others,” Lucifer pointed out.

   “Just so,” Constantine agreed. They lapsed into silence. Constantine didn't consider himself to be a very talkative person, and after touching on such a heavy topic, he found it difficult to pick up the thread of the conversation again. Lucifer, however, had no such issue.

   “Well, here's hoping this whole business gets resolved soon,” he said. Constantine raised his glass in a mock toast, then downed the last of his drink.

   “I have some... business to attend to,” Lucifer said, getting up from his seat. The evasiveness with which he spoke wasn't lost on Constantine. “Will you still be here when I return?” Constantine knew that he wanted a definitive answer, perhaps even a promise, but that was the one thing he knew he could not give him.

   “Maybe,” was all he said, and watched Lucifer walk away, grateful that he hadn't pressed the issue.


	11. Chapter 11

Lucifer was startled awake by the heavy metal guitar riffs of his ringtone. He blinked, trying to orient himself to his unfamiliar surroundings. He wasn’t in his penthouse. It wasn’t until John stirred beside him and mumbled something about turning that bloody thing off that he remembered he’d spent the night with him.

“His name is Michael Samson,” Maze said on the other end of the line, without preamble, when Lucifer at last answered his phone. “And you tell Oliver Queen that he owes me for that information. It didn’t come cheap.” Lucifer sighed. It was always a hassle explaining the demonic system of equivalent exchange to the uninitiated. 

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll make sure he knows. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Maze said, and her tone suggested that she truly didn’t want him to mention this conversation ever again. She hung up before Lucifer could say anything, the only sound a  _ click _ as she disconnected.

“Where are you going?” John mumbled when Lucifer edged himself out of the bed to get dressed.

“I need to meet with the Queens,” Lucifer explained in a whisper. John was still mostly  asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb him. “I have information for them.”

“Well, you can tell Oliver that he’s a right bastard,” John said as Lucifer reached the door. “Stealing you away from me.” Lucifer paused. John said things when he was drunk or half asleep that he would never say while sober or fully awake. Surely this had to be one of them. Lucifer knew that John would never have allowed those words to cross his lips if he had been fully aware. It was best not to dwell on them too much. Shaking his head, Lucifer slipped quietly through the door and left John to sleep.

He met the Queens at a local park. Meeting them at Lux like usual felt like tempting fate, and being out in the open might make it more difficult for Lucifer’s now not so mysterious adversary to interfere if he got a mind to do so. At least there was no place for him to hide, which Lucifer thought might make Oliver feel more comfortable, if nothing else. It was difficult to carry on a conversation with someone who only had half a mind on it, the other half preoccupied with watching for threats. It would be easier for everyone if there  _ were _ no threats to watch for.

Lucifer didn’t have to search for very long before he spotted the Queens. They were sitting side by side on a bench, their shoulders brushing every so often. Felicity had her hand over Oliver’s, and for once he didn’t look like he expected to be attacked at any second. Lucifer was pleased to see that that, at least, he had guessed correctly. On the other hand, if he was being entirely honest with himself, he knew that he should attribute the absence of Oliver’s usual hypervigilance more to Felicity’s presence than his choice of meeting place.

“Maze just got in touch with me,” Lucifer said, approaching the bench. “The name of the man we’re looking for is Michael Samson.” Oliver and Felicity exchanged surprised looks.

“I was starting to wonder if he even  _ had _ a name,” Felicity muttered. No one offered commentary on that statement. It was clear that they were all thinking it.

“What will you do now?” Lucifer asked. He knew their plan, of course- he’d been there when they’d come up with it- but he found that he needed the reassurance of hearing it again.

“We’ll turn his name over to the police,” Oliver spoke up, “and they’ll take it from there.” Lucifer nodded. 

“Make sure it gets to Chloe Decker,” Lucifer said. “She’s the detective on the case. I trust her completely.” He didn’t say why that was the case. It wasn’t relevant to the conversation.

“If that’s the case, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Felicity pointed out. “If she’s the one assigned to this case, I’m sure any information regarding it will find its way to her eventually.”

“Clearly you have more faith in bureaucracy than I do,” Lucifer muttered. “But nevertheless, I’m sure you’re right. No need to worry myself or you unnecessarily.” Clapping his hands together, he added, “Well, I believe that’s everything, so if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.” The dismissal was clear, but for some reason Lucifer had to restrain himself from telling them that those “other matters” were where he stood with John, relationship wise. The compulsion, though easily quashed, puzzled him. Since when did he trouble himself with such matters, or feel the need to share them?

He was standing in front of John’s door when he received a text from Chloe. It read  _ Do you want to tell me why I just got an anonymous tip providing me with the name of my unsub? _

_ I know nothing about that, Detective,  _ Lucifer replied. 

_ You told me you wouldn’t lie to me _ , Chloe said. Even in a text, she sounded irritated and hurt.

_ And I meant that _ , Lucifer said,  _ but the people with whom I’m working wish to remain anonymous for their safety and for the safety of their family. Their names are to be left out of this until the investigation is over. I’m sorry Chloe. Surely you must know that I would tell you if I could. _

_ As excuses go, it’s not bad _ , Chloe replied.  _ I’m sorry I got angry with you. _

_ There’s no need for you to apologize to me _ , Lucifer said.  _ Ever. _ He left it at that. There was no way for Chloe to mistake his meaning. He tried John’s door, found it unlocked, and strode in without announcing himself. He found John standing with his feet shoulder width apart in a fighting stance, his hands up, ready to hurl spells at whatever he’d thought was coming through the door to attack him.

“Are we going to talk about what you said to me before I left this morning?” Lucifer asked by way of greeting, watching John relax out of his fighting stance. There was a certain fluid grace to his movements that Lucifer would have happily observed for an eternity.

“And what was that?” John asked. Lucifer couldn’t tell if he really didn’t remember or was just being facetious.

“You called Oliver a bastard for stealing me away from you,” Lucifer said, keeping his tone neutral.

“Did I?”John asked, and this time Lucifer knew that his ignorance was faked. “Well, if I did, I was probably more than half asleep and wasn’t thinking about the words coming out of my mouth. It doesn’t count for anything now.”

“John-” Lucifer began.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” John snapped, cutting him off. “Just drop it, Luci.” John only called him Luci when he was annoyed with him. He didn’t want to drop it, but he did, for John’s sake. There was quite a lot, he was realizing, that he was willing to do for John’s sake.


	12. Chapter 12

“It feels better to finally know who we’re facing, doesn’t it?” Felicity asked, breaking the afternoon’s comfortable silence. Oliver nodded.

“Should we start packing up to go home?” Felicity asked. Oliver shook his head.

“I want to see this through,” he said. “We’ll leave when we receive word from Lucifer that the police have Michael Sampson in custody.” Felicity nodded.

“Makes sense,” she said. They lapsed into silence once more, both of them with their minds on home. Just because Oliver had become set on seeing things through to the end didn’t mean that he didn’t still miss his friends and family back home in Star City, and just because Felicity agreed with his decision didn’t mean she didn’t share those feelings. She felt as though she’d been away from them for too long already.

A knock sounded at the door, breaking the silence. Oliver and Felicity glanced at each other, and a brief moment passed before Felicity went to answer it. She pulled the door open quickly and went to stand beside Oliver, presenting a unified front to whoever was outside.

“Relax, you two,” Lucifer, gliding into the room in that smooth, unhurried way of his. “It’s just me.”

“Lucifer!” Felicity said, voicing the surprise both of them felt. Lucifer Morningstar was the last person they’d been expecting their visitor to be. “How did you know where we were staying?” Lucifer just looked at her. 

“The Devil has connections,” she mumbled. “Right.”

“Why are you here?” Oliver asked, cutting right to the point like he always did.

“To release you from any further obligations you may feel you have to me,” Lucifer replied. “You have done what John called you here to do. Chloe and the LAPD can handle things from here. Go home, both of you. I’m sure you must be missing your friends and family, and they you.” Oliver shook his head.

“I want to see this through,” he said. “It’s not in my nature to leave when the job’s only half done. We’ll go home when we receive word from you that the police have Michael Sampson in custody.” Lucifer’s shoulders lifted in a half shrug. 

“Very well,” he said, sounding unconcerned. “Suit yourself. But you should call your family. I’m sure your son in particular must be eager to hear from you.” Without another word, Lucifer left the same way he’d come in, gliding through the door, smooth and unhurried.

“He’s right, you know,” Felicity said when he’d gone. “You should call William. He hasn’t heard from either of us since we left.” Oliver considered her words for a moment, then nodded. Truth be told, he probably would have done as first Lucifer and now Felicity had suggested even if they had not. It would help reassure him that William was safe, that Michael Sampson hadn’t sent anyone after him or come after him himself. That sort of thing had happened once already, and Oliver hoped with everything in him that it would not happen again.

“Hey buddy,” he said when William picked up on the other end, feeling a rush of relief at the sound of his voice. “I’m going to put you on speaker so Felicity can talk to you too, alright?”

“Okay,” William said. 

“Hi William!” Felicity piped up from her perch on the bed as Oliver set his phone down on the desk.

“Hi Felicity,” William replied.

“How are things going over there?” Felicity asked.

“Fine,” William said. “Are you guys going to be coming home soon?”

“That’s actually what I called to talk to you about,” Oliver put in. “We’ve got the name of the guy we’re looking for, but I don’t want to leave until the police have caught him. I want to be absolutely sure he’s somewhere where he can’t hurt anyone else before we come home.”

“Ok,” William said. “Do you know how long that will take?”

“I don’t,” Oliver replied, shaking his head even though William couldn’t see him. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” William said. “I understand. Thanks for letting me know.”

“You’re welcome,” Oliver said.

“Tell Dig and Lyla we said hi,” Felicity added.

“I will,” William said. “See you...when I see you, I guess.” He hung up, leaving them in silence.

“That went well,” Felicity said after a moment.

“It did,” Oliver agreed, nodding.

“William took the news better than I expected,” Felicity admitted.

“He’s a big kid,” Oliver reminded her. “And he’s had to grow up a lot faster than most kids his age.” His voice turned somber. Felicity narrowed her eyes, recognizing that he was falling back into his pattern of self blame.

“That isn’t your fault,” she said, because she knew that’s he was thinking.

“Isn’t it though?” Oliver countered. “Think about it. Every single bad thing that’s happened to him that’s forced him to grow up too fast- Dahrk holding him hostage, Chase kidnapping him, his mother dying- all of it happened  _ after  _ I came into his life.”

“That doesn’t make those things your fault,” Felicity insisted. “You couldn’t have possibly have predicted that they would happen.”

“Yes, but-” Oliver began.

“No buts,” Felicity interrupted. “You don’t need to keep carrying the weight of everyone else’s misfortunes on your shoulders, Oliver. Not everything that happens to the people in your life is your fault.” Oliver shook his head, indicating that he didn’t know  _ how  _ to stop carrying everyone else’s misfortunes. He’d been doing it for so long that the habit had become ingrained. Felicity sighed.

“I know you don’t know how,” she said, responding to the statement that he hadn’t spoken out loud, “but I promise I’ll be here to help you figure it out. After all, isn’t that what marriage is about? Helping each other overcome our weaknesses?” Oliver nodded, smiling the smallest of smiles.

“You’re right,” he said. “That is what it’s about. Without you I’d never be able to find my way out of the pits I keep letting myself fall into. Thank you.”

“That’s not something you  _ ever _ need to thank me for,” Felicity said fervently. “But you’re welcome.” After a pause, she said, “Aren’t you glad that this is almost over? That we get to go home soon?” Oliver’s only response was to nod.


End file.
